


All Worth It In The End

by ninwrites



Series: Do I Dare Disturb The Universe? [6]
Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Writes Novels, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Clary/Alec brotp, F/M, First Date, Florist AU, Gen, Iz sends Alec on errands, Kissing, M/M, Magnus Is A Florist, Magnus Loves Alec's Novels, Matchmaker Isabelle, Sizzy wedding, To Be Continued, Writer AU, alec and lily's relationship gives me life tbh, izzy buys alec clothes again, lily is alec's editor, mentioned - Freeform, this is so long what the hell, totes a-grade flirting goes down btw, why does this happen in all my fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 12:45:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6855220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninwrites/pseuds/ninwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who could have known, that the fates of a writer - a reticent and yet caring brother - and a florist - an eccentric man with a taste for all things beautiful - would become entwined, all because of a wedding and a bride's 'unfortunate' double booking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Worth It In The End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notcrypticbutcoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcrypticbutcoy/gifts).



> Dedicated to [vulturemonem](http://archiveofourown.org/users/vulturemonem/pseuds/vulturemonem) for all the beautiful comments and everlasting support. I hope this is as good as the others. 
> 
>  
> 
> Clary + Alec brotp because I can. More Lily + Alec brotp because I want to. Sizzy wedding is all my parabatai's idea. There's one moment where magnus flirts with alec and the line is so cheesy that i made myself cringe but it had to be done

 

"Did you ever think the two of us would end up working on a book together?"

Clary grins as she sticks her pencil behind her ear. Her fiery red hair is pulled up into a messy bun, loose strands framing her petite face.

"Not me. I know it was a while ago, but there was a time where you used to hate me, Alec."

Alec's eyes widen almost comically in false surprise, the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth betraying the authenticity of the action.

"Was there?" He asks rhetorically. "I recall thinking you were a _pest_ , but I don't think I _hated_ you."

Clary rolls her eyes fondly. "Semantics." She claims.

"The point remains," Alec declares, gesturing towards their 'work area' - a large space they'd cleared off in Alec's lounge room, currently cluttered with frantically scribbled-on sheets of paper, an array of Clary's sketches, and both their laptops, as well as various miscellaneous items such as pens, pencils and scattered sticky notes.

"That we are, in fact, working on a novel together. I mean, I know we're best friends now, but _this_ \- this is an achievement."

He barely has a second to duck before Clary's eraser goes flying over his head.

"You know, I have other novels and books I could be working on." She reminds him. "As well as my _own_ projects."

"But you're already here." Alec points out. "And this is a lot to clean up, prematurely."

Clary glares at him, not that it really holds much heat. She parts her mouth to speak, but the door creaks open and she's quickly cut off. They both turn to see who it is in an oddly synchronised movement.

"One day I'll get used to that."

Jace saunts over, in much the same way he has since Alec first met him, back when they were twelve, young and naive, back when Alec thought that cocky, snarky blondes were his preferred type.

Jace greets Clary with a kiss on her forehead, and Alec by ruffling his hair until it's fluffy and tangled.

"I'm not Max." Alec states, though he doesn't bother attempting to fix it, knowing Jace will only gain further satisfaction.

"Well, Max isn't here, so you'll have to do." Jace glances over at their 'workspace'. "Working hard, I see."

"Yep." Clary scoops her concept art, sketches and other various drawings into her folio. "Too bad you're not allowed to peek."

"Are you kidding me? Clarissa Fray, I thought you loved me?"

"I do," Clary assures Jace. "However, I love Alec too, and I also respect him. So no, you don't get to see."

She stands up and smoothes Alec's hair over for him, bending down to kiss the top of his head. Jace pouts, but neither her nor Alec pay him any attention for it.

"I'll see you tomorrow Alec?"

"Uh, yeah - but I'll have to text you when I'm free. Iz wants to do brunch, and she apparently has a list of things she wants me to go over with her."

"Oooh, wedding errands." Jace states. He claps a hand on Alec's shoulder. "Good luck, man, you'll need it."

"Oh come on," Clary says, as Alec groans. "It's not like Izzy is a bridezilla or anything."

"No," Jace admits. He steps backwards, his eyes locked on Alec's to add dramaticism. "She's Isabelle Lightwood. She is _much_ worse."

Clary hits him half-heartedly on the shoulder.

"Just message me when you're ready." She tells Alec. He nods, and then they both break into matching grins when Jace ends up knocking into the couch.

"Bye, Jace." Alec says, waving. Jace glares, though it holds mostly annoyance, and turns on his heel to leave."

"Goodbye, Alec." Clary salutes him, her green eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Until tomorrow." He salutes bak, and then they're gone and it's just him and his empty apartment.

Which, for the most part, and indeed on most days, isn't too much of an issue. After all, he has his friends, and his family, and the odd strangely-addictive TV show to get hooked onto and binge watch for three days on end.

Besides, he's a writer. He's never _really_ alone, not whilst he has his imagination, his characters, the plots of their lives held in the power of his mind...

Okay, so, admittedly, it all sounds a lot less sad in his head.

And, maybe - maybe he is a _little_ lonely.

 

* * *

 

"So, how's the novel coming along?"

Alec shrugs, taking a sip of his iced tea. He eyes Isabelle's mimosa in the scrutinisingway only an older brother can, before turning his attention to her.

"It's alright. Clary's concept art is really good, and I have a general outline but I'm still trying to nut out a few of the characters. Shouldn't take me longer than a week, and I've been given at least eight months before I need a serious draft."

"That's because your last one was so good, and Lily knows it." Isabelle tilts her glass towards him, almost like a toast. "Everyone knows it."

"You didn't bring me to brunch to talk about my novel." Alec states, poking at his stack of pancakes with his fork. He's never been good at talking about himself, and with siblings like his, most of the time he doesn't have to.

"I did. Kind of. I also admittedly want to discuss wedding plans, but it isn't my only reason." Isabelle informs him. She shrugs, taking a sip of her drink. "It's been a while, Alec, I also wanted to catch up."

Alec's forehead creases, as his eyebrows draw together. "We talked yesterday."

"On the phone," Isabelle reminds him. "It's not the same. We haven't hung out in person in at least a week."

Alec stares at her blankly, as though searching for her point.

"Is it a crime for me to want to spend time with my big brother?" Isabelle asks innocently.

"No. But that doesn't mean I have to believe you don't have any other ulterior motives." Alec retorts.

Isabelle tilts her head, before soft-lilted laughter spills from between her parted lips. Alec smiles begrudgingly, stirring the ice in his drink, simply for something to do. He knows that she has something up her sleeve, and it is only a matter of time before he's dragged into her plans.

Supposing he already hasn't been.

"So, as I'm sure you know, I'm very organised when it comes to this wedding."

Alec nods. "Of course."

"However, somewhere along the line I have double booked appointments and I have found myself in a bit of a pickle."

Alec quirks an eyebrow, amused at the flickers of annoyance in Isabelle's eyes.

"Tomorrow, I have an appointment with my dressmaker, and then a cake tasting with Simon, and Clary's coming with me for help with the dress so she'll likely join us afterwards,"

"Cake is cake,'' Alec says. "And free cake is even better."

"My thoughts exactly. So, I was wondering if you'd mind dropping in at the florists for me?" Isabelle smiles sheepishly, although Alec is pretty sure it's all a farce. "I need the bouquet arrangements checked on, make sure there isn't any flowers there shouldn't be."

Alec nods. "What with you and I both being allergic." He states.

"Pretty much."

Isabelle smiles sweetly, her eyes widening and taking on an effect Alec refers to as her 'puppy-dog' look. A look that he unfortunately cannot ignore, despite years of trying to.

"I have a list." Isabelle adds.

"I'm not surprised." Alec states drily. He holds his hand out, sighing dejectedly. "Fine, give me the list."

Isabelle claps her hands excitedly, before reaching into her suitcase bag . She pulls out a pristine white sheet of paper with words scrawled in blue ink. There's even highlighted parts, Alec notes absently.

"Now, I've already called about my order, but I don't think there's such thing as _too careful._ Hopefully there will at least be a sketch or something about the arrangement, I don't expect the flowers done yet, of course, but I'd like to have some idea."

Alec nods as Isabelle speaks, even though he really only catches part of it. He personally doesn't understand the stress, but he learnt barely a few weeks after the announcement of his sister's engagement, not to question her on anything related to her upcoming nuptials.

"Anything else?" He asks, for his own safety and peace of mind.

Isabelle purses her lips, then shakes her head. "Not that I can think of. If there is, I'll just text you."

She reaches over, and grips his hand, despite the fact that hers is substantially smaller.

"Thank you, Alec." She says, sincerely. "This is a really big help."

"It's nothing," Alec replies, instantly. "You know I'll always do anything for you."

"Still," Isabelle's eyes are dark and piercing as they stare into his. "Thank you."

Alec picks his glass up and takes a sip from his straw. Isabelle grins and sips from her own glass, her eyes never straying.

"You shouldn't be drinking alcohol this early in the morning." Alec tells her, because her gaze is becoming a little unnerving and he doesn't have much else to say, but he needs to say something.

He ignores the little voice in his head telling him that he should be able to stand up to his _younger sister_ as he is twenty-four years of age, and has therefore been an adult for a fair few years by this point.

"I can do whatever I want." Isabelle smirks. "And this time, brother dear, you can't stop me."

Alec scoffs out a laugh. "When have I ever been able to stop you?"

"True," Isabelle winks, squeezing his hand gently before pulling back.

Alec smiles, allows himself to, and for a moment, he forgets about his empty apartment and the unfortunate dependency he seems to have on his siblings.

And the fact he has to talk to a florist for his sister.

He, the one Lightwood who drew the short straw when it comes to confidence - social and otherwise.

He should have just said no.

 

* * *

 

_The Tudor Rose._

Alec stares up at the sign, printed in solid, elegant letters, in a shade of red like oxygenated blood. He supposes there's a reason behind the name, as there is behind most names, but he can't fathom what it could be. Or, how Isabelle found this place.

Though, it is beautiful. The windows stretch almost from the floor to the roof, clear and clean, framing a shiny silver and white door. There's a row of lavender in front of the windows, creating a sweet, aromatic scent that wafts around him and draws him closer.

He takes a deep breath, cautionary, before opening the door and stepping through. There's a bell above the door which chimes loudly, announcing his presence, which he thinks he should find more obnoxious than he actually does.

He's barely a metre inside, when a door towards the back opens and a tall man, at least as tall Alec, comes striding into the room.

"Welcome to my humble flower shop, what can I do for ... _hello_."

Heat creeps up Alec's neck slowly, and there's a tingling sensation across his cheeks. The man's eyes, a peculiar green-gold that gleam in the sunlight, trail down Alec and then back up again, unashamed in his actions. His mouth, much like a cupid's bow and surprisingly shiny, pulls up into a delicate smile, the hints of a smirk playing around the corners.

"And what can I possibly do for such a handsome customer?"

The heat reaches Alec's ears, and he busies himself pulling out the list Isabelle had given him.

"I'm, uh, I'm here for my sister. Isabelle. She's - she's getting married, soon, and she sent me here to check up on an order."

The man nods, listening intently, and for some unfathomable reason Alec just _keeps talking._

"She's a little controlling when it comes to her wedding," He says, not that his mouth is ready to stop there. "And I learnt when we were young not to bother questioning her if I want to keep my sanity."

He blushes then, and not as a result of the unbelievably attractive man in front of him.

"That makes her sound really bad - uh, what I meant, is..."

"I've met Isabelle." The man interrupts, not unkindly. "I think I understand where you are coming from."

Alec sighs in relief. "That's ... that's really good to hear."

He hands the list over, trying not to stare at the softness of the man's hands, or the shimmering nail polish that matches his dark eyeshadow.

Alec never even knew makeup could be matched like that.

"I'm Alec, by the way." He adds, cringing slightly at the awkwardness. One day, he won't make a fool of himself.

If he's lucky.

"Magnus." Comes the reply, as well as an extended hand. It takes Alec a second to recognise the purpose, but thankfully Magnus is patient and polite enough not to mention it.

His grip is firm, and for a moment Alec worries his own hand is too clammy, but then the handshake is over and there are other things for him to focus on. Like the pressure around his eyes and nose.

"Your sister is very thorough." Magnus comments, heading towards the back of the room, towards the door he entered through.

"She 's, uh, she's a bit of a perfectionist, at times." Alec explains.

He isn't sure whether to follow or stay where he is, so instead he chooses secret option number three, and starts walking around the store. It almost resembles the inside of a greenhouse, various plants situated along benches or hanging from metal planks running along the span of the roof. He trails his fingers along some of them, careful of the thorns of the roses and the prickly leaves of other, similairly protected flowers.

There's a build-up around his nose, an itch in his throat, and he understands why but he pretends he doesn't, because he never chooses the more logical option when faced with potentially awkward public situations. Or around attractive people.

It's even worse when the two combine.

"Now, on here it says that tulips are not, _'under any circumstances'_ , to be included in any of the arrangements."

Magnus strolls back in, clipboard in hand - Alec presumes the list is clipped to it. He brushes the tip of his nose with the sleeve of his jumper, hoping to keep the sniffles at bay.

"Uh, yeah, Isabelle - Isabelle's allergic."

Magnus looks up, his eyebrows quickly knitting together in puzzled amusement. "And, forgive me if I am overstepping, but it seems like she isn't the only one."

Alec blinks, in quick succession. "What makes you think that?"

Magnus smirks as Alec rubs at his nose again.

"Alec, it's fine, we can take this discussion somewhere you won't be affected."

Alec is completely prepared to protest, words waiting to be said, when he suddenly sneezes and his brain momentarily short-circuits.

"I'm usually not this bad." Alec claims, sounding a little sniffly. "Isabelle's worse than me, it's why she asked me to come - I presume, anyway."

"Well, there are a lot of different flowers around, I can't say I'm too surprised. Here, follow me out to the back, the air should be a little clearer there."

Alec nods slowly, and trails after Magnus.

The room he's lead into resembles an office, or at least he assumes that's what it is. There's a desk and a swivel chair at the corner, with a laptop and a stack of paper and files resting on it. On the other side of the room sits a makeshift kitchen area, with a mini-fridge and microwave, a small area of bench space with a sink, and other items such as a kettle and a rack of mugs and cups. Diagonal to the desk and sort of across from the 'kitchen' is a couch long enough for Alec to probably lie comfortably on, head to toe.

"Wow," He says breathily, only in part as an impact from the pollen of the flowers.

"I know it's not much," Magnus says, heading towards the desk. "But most of the time it's just me. My friend Ragnor often comes in to help, though when that happens I am faced with a tirade of complaints, and when things are really busy I have a few casual workers I bring in,"

Magnus shrugs. "But other than that..."

"No, it's - I think it's great. Cosy. I just wasn't expecting ... well, _this._ You've got, like, a mini-apartment in here."

Magnus smirks. "Well, I am here practically every day. Every now and then I get someone else to cover for me, but, well,"

He glances down, in a move that Alec would call shy if he hadn't seen Magnus' exuberant confidence. "This is my shop, you know? And I'm really proud of it, I started this business myself and I enjoy what I do, so ... it sounds really silly, but I like it sort of just being - mine."

"I get it." Alec says softly. Magnus looks up, and there's something about his expression that shows he believes Alec, somehow, despite only having met him less than an hour ago.

"I'm a writer." He explains, laughing self-deprecatingly. "Well, an author, actually."

"I see," Magnus says. "Anything I might have read?"

"Well, uh, it depends, do you read young adult contemporary novels?" Alec asks, sounding far too hopeful in his opinion.

He thinks he sounded better when he was proposing the idea for his current WIP. To Lily. Who he could have sworn hadn't blinked in the whole four minutes his proposal took. And then hadn't said anything or altered her blank, slightly terrifying expression for another three.

He knows it's probably just a trick of the light, but for a moment he thinks he catches a sparkle in Magnus' eyes.

"I happen to."

Alec blinks slowly in haltered disbelief. Magnus grins and leans his hip against his desk.

"Okay, well, have you ever read _Love Without Fear_ or, uh, _Never Again_?"

Magnus stills, his eyes widening almost comically slow, and Alec blames his allergies for the heat of his cheeks. Even though there isn't really enough flowers to affect him. The silence lasts for barely ten seconds, but to Alec it feels like ten minutes, enough time for his heart to pick up speed and beat loudly in his ears.

"I don't know how I did not make the connection sooner," Magnus says softly. "You're sister is Isabelle Lightwood, your name is Alec - you're A. G. Lightwood."

The heat on Alec's cheek brightens, so much that he feels like he must resemble a traffic light or a stop sign. He stumbles backwards a step, his arm reaching out blindly until it finds the arm of the couch.

"Yeah," He grips the couch to keep himself upright. "That's me."

Magnus' grin is blinding, like the sun, and although Alec knows he should probably look away, not keep staring, he can't find it in himself to tear his eyes away.

"I love your books," Magnus says. "If I had to choose a favourite author, it would be you."

Alec exhales shakily. "Seriously?"

"Absolutely." Magnus admits. "In fact, I'm pretty sure I've read _Never Again_ at least three times."

"It was only released six months ago."

Magnus winks. "What can I say, I enjoy your writing."

The tip of Alec's ears are burning, there's a spark racing up his spine, and he's pretty sure he's about to faint. And all the while, Magnus is grinning at him like he's found the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

Alec's read reviews before, good and bad, and there's been times where he's felt like he was walking in a dream because the things that have been said about his novels are incomprehensibly lovely.

And he's done book tours, signings, met fans of his novels who've smiled and praised him so much he ended up walking off with an almost drunken grin.

But this is different. Because this isn't just face-to-face with a fan, this is face-to-face with a ridiculously gorgeous man who sends Alec's emotions into overdrive.

"Would you like to take a seat?" Magnus gestures towards the couch. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and I'm sure you'd like to do what you came here for."

Alec smiles gratefully. "I'm not, uncomfortable, I'm just - I've never really been good at accepting compliments. And especially not about something I'm really proud of."

He sits down, his hands scrubbing over his jeans in a weak attempt to calm himself down, ease his nerves. Magnus flicks through the files on his desk before pulling one out from the middle of the pile with an "ah-hah".

"Now, here are some sketches of the arrangements - I enlisted the help of a friend, I'm not much of a drawer myself."

Magnus strolls over and hands Alec the file, before sitting down next to him. Alec sucks in a sharp inhale of breath unwittingly. Magnus, thankfully, acts as though nothing has happened.

"So, these are the bouquets for the bridesmaids, and this is the one for the bride herself - as you can see the design is varied slightly whilst still remaining similair enough..." Magnus commentates as Alec flicks through the designs.

"And those are the ones for the tables, and those I was planning on arranging around the room..."

"These are great," Alec whispers. Somewhere along the line Magnus has inched closer, the distance between them shrinking until it would take barely a tilt for him to rest his head on Alec's shoulder.

"Thank you."

"No, I mean, really," Alec continues, because once again, for some reason, his brain has disconnected from his mouth and he can't stop the words from spilling out. "These are fantastic. I know I'm not exactly an expert or anything but, I mean these are just designs, I can't even imagine how good the real things are going to look like."

"You flatter me, Alec." Magnus comments idly, but there's an honesty to his smile that shines through his calm facade. "I just hope your sister will like them as much as you do."

"She'll love them." Alec promises, knowing his sister as well as he knows himself.

"I do hope you're right."

 

* * *

 

"How good was the cake?"

Isabelle and Clary both look up from their spot on the couch, in front of the coffee table that's laden with lists and stock-photos and other assorted wedding preperation paraphernalia. Alec shuts the door behind him and crosses the room to join them, perching on the empty matching armchair.

"Good enough that I contemplated switching careers." Clary admits.

Isabelle peers at her sideways, a smugness to her expression. "That's not all you did." She reminds her.

Alec, intrigued, leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Clarissa, what _did_ you do."

Clary mumbles something inaudible, and Isabelle laughs softly.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I caught that." Alec says, playfully.

"I said, I may or may not have faked my own engagement." Clary admits reluctantly.

She wrings her hands together, almost nervously, and the action draws Alec's gaze. He notices she's playing with the ring her mother gave her at sixteen, on the third finger of her right hand.

"You didn't!" He exclaims, despite being completely certain in the belief that she actually did.

"Oh no, she did." Isabelle assures him.

Clary tilts her head forward until her hair falls down to cover her eyes. She holds her hands up over her face and shakes her head. "Don't cake-shame me."

Alec laughs, and leans back in his chair.

"Alright, we'll let it go." Isabelle says, reaching over to rub Clary's back comfortingly. She turns her sharp gaze to Alec, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiles.

"What about you? How was the florists?"

There's an unnerving glint in her eyes, something a little concerning about the amount of watts in her blinding smile.

"It was fine." He says warily. "I got a little sniffly, but I think that was just because of the amount of flowers around."

"And the designs?"

"Really good. Magnus said he'd email them to you, so that you can have a look yourself, and if there is anything you don't like or want to change, don't hesitate to let him know." Alec says, proud of himself for remembering everything Magnus had told him. "But I think you'll love them the way they are."

"Most likely." Isabelle tilts her head slightly to the left.

Clary does very little to hide her grin, and Alec wonders if this is something Isabelle had planned, or whether Clary just knows where Isabelle's going with this.

"So, Magnus, huh?" Isabelle says casually, although Alec is aware there is very little casualty about it. "You sound very ... friendly, about it all."

Alec's eyes narrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, Alec, that's really sweet." Isabelle tells him, laughter blending into her tone.

"She's trying to find out what you think of him." Clary explains. "And being very subtle about it, I might add."

"I'm not here to be subtle," Isabelle says, glancing at Clary. "Especially as being subtle won't get me quite as close as being slightly pushy will."

"To what?" Alec asks, puzzled.

"To setting you up." Clary inputs.

Alec groans, and now it's his turn to put his head into his hands.

"Why?" He asks no one in particular. "Why must I be tortured like this?"

"Because I love you," Isabelle says honestly. "And because I want you to be happy."

"I am happy."

"You're lonely," Isabelle corrects. "And whilst you may think that it's okay, and that it's not affecting you, I know that you're not as happy as you _could_ be."

She shrugs one shoulder. "I just want to help."

"And I appreciate it." Alec tells her. "But that doesn't mean you have to play matchmaker."

"Well, then where's the fun?" Isabelle asks.

Alec rolls his eyes, and Clary laughs fondly. She runs a hand through her hair, disentangling it, before locking her own piercing green eyes on Alec.

"What _did_ you think of Magnus?" She asks, sounding a lot more innocent than Isabelle, not that Alec really trusts her at the moment.

"He was okay, very nice, and patient." Alec coughs nervously. "And he, uh, he's a fan."

"Of your books?" Isabelle clarifies.

Alec nods. "Yeah, he said that he's read _Never Again_ three times."

And _that's_ still something he's working on believing.

"I love that one," Clary says. "But didn't that only come out, like, a few months ago."

"Six." Alec replies, glancing down as a blush creeps up his neck.

"It does seem my dearest brother has a crush." Isabelle comments.

"I do not!" Alec vehemently denies. "Besides, I've only just met him, I don't know enough about him to have a crush."

"Sure you do," Clary replies.

"Do you think he's attractive?" Isabelle asks.

Alec burns a hole in the ground with the heat of his stare. He can feel the blush creeping up his hairline, but he nods curtly.

"And you think he's nice. And, he's a fan of your novels - Alec, that sounds to me like you have at least one thing in common. I personally think that is enough grounds for you to develop a crush."

Isabelle shrugs, as though it is the simplest thing in the world. Alec disagrees.

"Of course, if you don't like him, it's fine. We're not trying to force you into anything you're not uncomfortable with." Clary assures him.

Isabelle looks like she's about to argue, and in fact Alec is expecting her to. Surprisingly, she doesn't, just nods, almost reluctantly, along with Clary.

"I know, it's just-"

Alec sighs harshly. He resists the urge to tug at his hair, bite his lip, or dig his nails into the flesh of his palm, although all of them are very appealing options.

"It's all well and good to have a crush on someone - _not that I'm saying I do_ \- but that doesn't mean that anything is going to come of it, or that there's even a chance of him liking me back."

"But you'll never know if you play it safe." Clary reminds him softly.

"I know," He reluctantly admits. "But that doesn't make actually _doing it_ any easier. I'm not confident, or that attractive, and I'm okay with words as long as I don't have to actually speak them aloud. Not to mention my crippling awkwardness around people I like."

"Maybe Magnus will find it endearing," Isabelle says positively. "Your 'awkwardness', that is."

"And, as your friend - best friend, I might add - I feel it is my duty to inform you that you are in fact quite attractive." Clary adds. "I'll admit when I first met you it was kind of dampened by the way you spoke to me, but now that I know how much of an actually fantastic person you are, I can certifiably claim that you are most definitely a catch."

"I appreciate the sentiment," Alec thanks them. "But ... I just ... I don't know, I don't know how to _do_ this, how to ... pursue someone I'm interested in."

He drags a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends until he feels the pull at the base of his skull.

"Magnus is just so ... and I'm me, and I don't-"

"The best advice I can give you, Alec, is to just go for it. See what happens." Isabelle offers. "Worst-case scenario, it doesn't go anywhere and it ends up just being a fleeting crush. Nothing more."

Alec blinks slowly.

"And it's not like you have to rush head-first into things. There's no reason you can't, you know, test the waters first. Or even just ask Magnus if he'd _like_ to go on a date" Clary adds helpfully.

"I suppose..." He says, dragging his words out. "I mean, I _think_ I could do that,"

"You can." Clary assures him, smile bright and blinding.

Alec sighs, as their words rattle around inside his mind. His gaze falls to the table, on the lists and dress designs and other similair items.

"Is that the guest list?" He asks.

Isabelle nods, and he leans forward to pick the sheet of paper up. His eyes scan down the list carefully; _Clary and Jace, him, Rebecca, Maryse, Robert, Jocelyn and Luke, Lily, Maia, Aline and Helen..._

"Is there someone I forgot?" Isabelle asks. "Because I've run over the list at least three times and I could have sworn I remembered everyone we needed. I even got Simon's dumb bandmates, and some of them I don't even like."

"No," Alec mutters. "You didn't forget anyone."

He hums, for a short moment, as he places the list back on the table amongst the other items. Isabelle and Clary both look at him in intrigue, and slightly as though he's lost his marbles.

"Are you okay?" Clary asks, appearing genuinely concerned.

"Yeah," Alec replies dazedly. "I just, thought of something, that's all."

Isabelle raises her eyebrows, expecting an answer that simply does't come.

"Care to indulge us?" She asks after a moment.

"Huh? Oh, no ... it's nothing, really. I just remembered something I, uh, I have to do tomorrow. That's all."

Alec turns his attention to the wedding scrapbook Isabelle had been collating since her engagement. He flips through, trying to focus his attention on the images of the venues and the different dresses, the matching colour schemes for the groommen, the fabric swatches for the suits, rather than the plan forming in his mind, and the piercing eyes that he knows would be able to stare into his soul.

He's anxious enough as it is, what with the fact that he actually has to be in the wedding, has to stand up in front of a bunch of people, barely half of which he actually knows. Add on top of that his idea, which is probably a very bad one in all honesty, and that carries a high possibility of failure, and his nerves start attacking the inner walls of his stomach like a swarm of furious moths.

The last thing he needs is for his sister and his best friend finding out, and either teasing him, or trying to help which would in turn only make him feel even more nervous.

Somedays, he wishes he was like his siblings. More confident, more self-assured. Jace can surely be a pain at times, but at least he's steadfast in what he says and does.

Unlike Alec, who despite being a writer, has moments where he can barely string together a whole sentence without breaking speech.

Oh, yes. He's a catch.

 

* * *

 

For some reason, the chime above the door of _The Tudor Rose_ sounds even louder the second time Alec enters, although that could admittedly be because of his internal meltdown paired with the tension raging like a thunderstorm inside his veins.

The universe allows him the grace of a few seconds to remind himself what he's doing there in the first place, and to even out his breathing before his anxiety completely takes over. It doesn't last long, unfortunately, because soon enough he catches sight of the back door opening, and his heart skips a beat in his chest.

He quickly tells it to stop, as it is being unreasonable and not helping him in any way.

And then he realises that he is actually mentally chastising his own heart, and he stops before he gets to the point where he is considered clinically insane.

"Alec!"

Magnus steps around the register desk, striding with purpose, sounding far too excited by Alec's presence.

"What brings you back here, and so soon?" Magnus asks. He pauses, frowning slightly, before adding: "Not that I am unhappy to see you, I'm simply - pleasantly surprised."

Alec sheepishly stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jumper, still managing to cling to the ends of his sleeves. "Well, I wanted to talk to you ... about something."

"Is it the arrangements? Did Isabelle not like them? I could have sworn she would, although I suppose one can't always make assumptions based on percieved taste and then expect everything to just be perfect-"

"It's not, about Isabelle." Alec forces the words out, knowing if he doesn't they'll just stay trapped in his throat. "She loved the arrangements, more than even I thought she would."

Magnus steps forward, leaving barely an arms length between them. "Well then, what is it?" He asks. "Are _you_ getting married?"

It's said with a playful smirk, but there's a moment where Alec genuinely considers the question serious and he falters.

"N-no. I'm, I'm not getting - married."

"No wife then? Girlfriend?" Magnus asks, before Alec can continue. There's a glint in his eyes, one of mischief and trouble, that Alec has seen reflected in Isabelle before, except this time there is something else as well, something Alec can't figure out.

"N-no. I'm - I'm gay." Alec admits.

Magnus smirks. "Ah, so, _boyfriend_ , then?"

Alec shakes his head jerkily. "No, I'm single."

To his own ears, he sounds pitiful and sad, almost desperate in the formation of the letters that spill from his mouth. But Magnus' smirk widens, the glint in his eyes brightening, and Alec can feel a strange tingling at the base of his skull.

"Well, if that just isn't the most wonderful news I have heard all week."

Alec frowns, genuinely confused, and Magnus laughs. It's light and cheerful and somehow smoothes away most of Alec's worries. Not all, but most.

"You wanted to talk to me about something?" Magnus prompts, likely sensing Alec's internal dillema.

The slight - very slight - change of subject is something that Alec welcomes, although he understands that the swirling mix of emotions inside him won't be kept at bay for very long.

"Yes." Alec breathes in deeply. His hand curls in his pocket, his fingers grazing along the cotton thread. It's soft, faded from years of use and wash, and the familiarity of the garment helps ground him.

He can do this. He _can_ do this.

"So, as you know - well, obviously you know, I mean you're the florist - anyway. As you know, Isabelle's wedding is coming up in a few weeks."

"Oh, yes. An absolutely wonderful spectacle, I don't doubt."

Alec nods curtly. "Right. Well. The thing is, my sister has given me a plus-one ... when she first told me about it I didn't think I'd use it. Everyone I'd want to bring was aleady invited."

Magnus' mouth twitches at the corner, but he doesn't interrupt.

"And, you see, the thing is - well, the thing is that, I was talking to her, and she said that, that if I liked someone, or could see myself really liking someone, that I should just _'go for it'_. I'm not really one to, you know, _do that_ , but, see - well, what I'm really trying to say is-"

"Alec."

Magnus reaches out and grips Alec's shoulder. His touch is firm, but still gentle, and it sends sparks down Alec's arm and across his chest.

"Are you asking me to be the plus-one to your sister's wedding?"

Alec shakily nods. "Yeah. Basically. Yes. If you want to, of course."

"Oh, I'd love to." Magnus replies, smiling pleasantly at Alec. So pleasantly, in fact, that it almost serves as a distraction from Magnus' next words. "But I do have to ask, will it be just as friends, or, something more?"

"Something more?" Alec echoes. "Like a date?"

Magnus grins wider, and nods. " _Exactly_ like a date."

"Well, if you want, I mean, I wouldn't be opposed, but if you don't want it to be, then it doesn't _have_ to be. I mean I'd like it if it was a date, of course I would-"

Magnus laughs, his hand sliding down until it's gripping Alec's bicep. He gives an involuntary experimental squeeze, and Alec hears him make an almost inhuman noise.

"Alec, if you honestly believe that I would not like to go on a date with you - a gorgeous specimen of human goodness - than I apparently have not been clear enough with my intentions."

"Your intentions?" Alec echoes, despising how small and weak-willed he sounds.

Magnus's eyes flick from Alec's eyes, down to his lips, and back up again. Alec swallows audibly, and Magnus winks.

"In summary, yes, Alec Lightwood, I would love to go to your sister's wedding as your _date_."

Magnus rubs his hand up and down Alec's upper arm, before dropping it back down to his side. Alec mourns the loss of contact momentarily, before he forces his mind to focus back on the present.

"I suppose I will see you then." Magnus says, his tone somewhat reluctant.

He steps back, placing distance between them - distance Alec decides he doesn't really want.

"Unless..."

Magnus raises an eyebrow. "Unless?"

Alec shifts his weight, glancing down at the ground sheepishly, to avoid Magnus' undoubtedly intense gaze.

"I mean, we don't have to _necessarily_ wait until the wedding. We could, you know, maybe, do something earlier."

"Like tomorrow night?" Magnus suggests.

"S-sure." Alec replies. "Tomorrow night, sounds - sounds good."

A moment of silence passes, a moment where all Alec can hear is the sound of his own heart, and all he can see is Magnus' stunning eyes raking over him. He's still working on the realisation he's actually asked someone he finds attractive out, and they have not only accepted, but also suggested a date barely around twenty-four or so hours later.

It's a lot to stomach. It's also, however, not something he can deny.

"I look forward to it." Magnus says eventually, his voice low and hushed.

Alec smiles, and he's pleased to find it feels real, honest and open.

"Me too."

 

* * *

 

_"I know it's incredibly biased of me, but my point still remains."_

Alec rolls his eyes as he turns his key into the lock of his apartment door.

"You're my editor. You're on the side of anything if it correlates positively with my books. And you become the instant enemy of anything that doesn't."

 _"True."_ Lily admits. _"However, I'm also your friend. And I, you know, want you to be happy or whatever."_

Alec laughs and pushes open his door with his free hand. "Your dedication to friendship is astounding."

_"No, that's my dedication to your sorry ass. Anyway, I got a skype meeting in five, with a few of the company's international connections. Have fun on your date."_

Alec grins and shuts his door. "Careful, your precariously placed hard exterior might crack if you're any nicer to me."

_"Bye loser."_

"There you go. Bye."

Alec smiles fondly to himself. He's known Lily since he was nineteen, when he was attempting to sell his first novel to any publication agency that would take it. Lily, three years older than him, had taken him in as her first serious client, and they'd been working together ever since. Being his editor, and since two years ago his agent, they spend a lot of time together, and it hadn't taken them very long to get close.

Even if Lily despises admitting her own feelings as she believes it shows weakness.

He checks the time on his phone, which alerts him to the fact that he only has about an hour before his date with Magnus.

Their _first_ date.

He slides his phone into the pocket of his jeans and turns away from the door, mentally flicking through his wardrobe - even though he knows there isn't a lot of variety there - completely unaware of just who's waiting in his loungeroom.

Until he looks up. And, simultaneously, almost has a heart attack.

"Isabelle!" He scolds, although it is weakened by the effect of his shock.

"Yes, Alec?"

His sister is perched on the arm of his couch, long, dark hair twisted into a plait. In one hand is her phone, but she pays it no attention.

He distrusts the situation immediately.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, trying to be casual, although he's pretty sure his voice is tremouring. He knows that he hasn't yet told his sister about his date, planning on doing it afterwards, on the provision that it goes well.

He also doesn't trust _her_ at the moment.

"Just came over to see if you wanted to do dinner." Isabelle says, innocently. There's something to the quirk of her mouth, that amplifies Alec's lack of belief in her statement.

"I - can't." Alec says. He steps forward, trying to figure out the odds of him being able to sneak into his bedroom, or better yet, get her out.

Isabelle smirks, standing up off the couch. "You have plans?"

"Well," Alec shrugs his shoulder. "Kind of. Yeah."

He keeps walking, hoping she'll ignore his slightly suspicious behaviour. He doubts it, in fact, most of him knows and accepts it's a foolish hope. Still. He does it anyway.

"With who?" Isabelle asks, following him.

"Someone." Alec replies.

Isabelle follows him straight into his bedroom, and he wonders how long they'll play this cat-and-mouse game. He's fairly certain she knows, somehow, and he knows her too well to expect her to let him pretend there's nothing going on.

Even though that is exactly what he's going to do.

"Someone special?"

Alec turns away from her, towards his wardrobe, so that she can't see his face, can't see the smile that he can't stop from happening, the heat that only burns brighter when he tries to force it down.

"You could say that." He says, the words slipping out without his approval, spurred on by the rush of images in his mind, images of his date, of striking eyes and a playful smirk and lips that he has to restrain himself from kissing.

"Magnus?"

He whirls around, eyes wide. Isabelle's sitting on the end of his bed, legs crossed, a knowing glint in her eyes. Sometimes, he hates the fact that she knows him as well as she does, and usually during those times, he wishes they had the supposedly natural sibling rivalry most people are surprised they were spared.

"Lily told me." Isabelle clarifies, before Alec even asks.

"I'm going to kill her."

"No you won't."

"You're right." Alec amended. "I'm going to _fire_ her instead."

Isabelle rolls her eyes. Alec ignores her, opening the door to his wardrobe in search of nicer clothes, albeit likely black, to wear on his date. He's still terrified, especially as Magnus' style is miles and bounds ahead of his own.

He picks up a shirt, but isn't even allowed a second to look at it, before Isabelle is snatching it out of his hands.

"No."

"But I didn't even-"

"I don't care. I said no."

Alec groans and lets his head fall forward until it's resting against the back of his wardrobe door.

"This is why I didn't tell you." He mumbles grumpily.

Isabelle pretends she doesn't hear him, and begins rummaging through his closet.

"You've got to have something in here." Alec hears her, just audibly. "I know you're not entirely hopeless."

"Gee, thanks."

Isabelle pulls back, bundles of clothes in her hand. Alec's admittedly surprised at how quickly she'd managed to, supposedly, find something.

"Here, try this on."

She throws the clothes at him, and he barely manages to catch them without falling over or knocking back into the door. He has a sudden fear, that if he's this frazzled now, who knows how he's going to be by the time he actually gets to the restaurant where he's supposed to be meeting Magnus.

He places the clothes on his bed, and reaches up to slip off his shirt, when it comes to his attention that his sister is not only still in the room, but also that she's looking at him. Patiently. Waiting for him ... to get dressed? To kick her out? To protest?

"Do you mind?" He asks.

"Nope." She replies. "Feel free. I'm not bothered."

" _I_ am." Alec grumbles beneath his breath, but he gives up the arguement regardless. It's pointless, after all. And besides that, he doesn't have any time to waste.

He pulls his shirt off over his head, and swaps it for the dark teal pressed button-up Isabelle had wipped out from who knows where. He doesn't recognise it, but then he's worn the same blend of sweaters, jeans and shirts for that long he can't remember half of what used to make up the contents of his closet.

He slips his arms through the sleeves, does up the buttons from the bottom to the top.

"You look like a lawyer." Isabelle states helpfully.

Alec stares at her. "You gave me the clothes."

"No, your movements. So, strict. Refined. Clinical. Relax, Alec, you're not going on a job interview, it's just a date."

"With a really attractive guy. Nevermind that I haven't been on a date in at least, oh, two years."

"I'd like to point out that you are going on a date, with another person. Ergo, you don't have anything to worry about. Magnus obviously likes you for who you are, there isn't any reason for you to stress."

Alec scrubs a hand over his face and sighs into the palm of his hand.

"Can you at least turn around so I can put my pants on."

Isabelle rolls her eyes but obliges. Alec switches pants, tugging on the other pair, a smoky charcoal colour that is significantly tighter and harder to shrug on than his slouchy jeans. This pair stick to him like they were, spray-painted on or something. Definitely not his.

"You bought these for me, didn't you?"

Isabelle doesn't say anything, but her smirk is enough of an answer for Alec.

"Isabelle," He groans.

"What?" She asks, innocently.

"What - I wasn't even aware that you knew about my date, considering I hadn't told you, and yet you've - you've already picked out an outfit for me, I just-"

"I bought you an outfit because I love you and you needed date clothes. If you don't want to wear them Alec, then you don't have to, I don't mind. I was just trying to help, that's all."

Her words are spoken softly, and it's not that Alec doesn't believe her intentions, it's more that he doesn't believe the air of innocence she's built up. He knows her too well to not trust his own instincts first.

"I know you were, and I appreciate it. But I'm not dumb, Iz, so you might as well just own up to it. You couldn't really match-make because I, sort of, did it myself. And you don't trust me to dress myself, so you had to meddle a little bit."

"Meddle is such a negative word," Isabelle replies, smirking widely. "I prefer helping. Or assisting. Or,"

"Don't say charity." Alec interrupts. "That's one step too far. I'll wear the clothes you picked, and I'll even be marginally happy about it."

The glee in Isabelle's eyes is palpable, and Alec feels it sweep through him. It's one of the reasons he's doing this, to see that delight in her eyes. And, although he won't dare tell her, knowing he won't hear the end of it, the clothes don't actually look horrible on him.

In fact, and it's hard for him to admit this even to himself, he kind of looks ... _good_ in them.

At the very least, far better than he would of in any clothes he'd chosen himself.

Isabelle steps forward and starts playing with the collar of his shirt, smoothing out the wrinkles, flattening things down. Alec, too busy running his fingers through the tangled mess that is his hair, doesn't really take notice of what her hands are doing.

"Iz - what the hell!"

Isabelle continues undoing the top few buttons of his shirt, despite how hard Alec tries to do them up again. After about the third time of undoing-and-doing the buttons, Isabelle gives up, moving on to his sleeves. She rolls them up until they sit just below his elbow, folding and flattening them until the fabric is smooth enough for her approval.

"You're no fun." Isabelle states, stepping back and crossing her arms over her chest. Alec simply glares at her, as he does up the last button she undid.

"I am not baring my chest." He declares.

"Not even a sneak peak?" Isabelle asks.

Alec groans, wondering not for the first time, why he can't have a sister who _isn't_ heavily invested in his love life and oddly comfortable with things, like his body, that even he isn't comfortable with.

"No." He states.

Isabelle sighs huffily, and steps back. Her arms move to rest on her hips, and she studies him with a analysing gaze.

"There's just one thing missing," She mutters.

Alec braces himself as she steps forward, but this time her hands don't wander to his chest. Instead, they reach up to his hair, a feat only possible in her ridiculous heels - ridiculous, in his opinion.

Isabelle would call them shoes. He prefers neckbreakers.

"There." Isabelle states once she's done, stepping back to admire her work.

Alec resists the urge to squirm, and tries not to think about the time ticking down until his date. It's not that he isn't excited, he really, really is. It's just that he hasn't been on a date in an embarassingly long time, and he's certain that he's going to mess it up somehow.

And it's a hard thing to try and shake off, his overwhelming sense of _'I'm going to ruin this'._

Isabelle grins, her own personal stamp of approval. "You look great. Magnus isn't going to know what hit him."

Alec shuffles his weight, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Isabelle walkes over to his wardrobe and pulls out a faded leather jacket, slightly frayed at the seams.

"I almost forgot this." She says, handing it to him. "And this _is_ actually yours."

Alec laughs despite himself, and takes the jacket from her. "Thank you," He says sincerely. "For it all. I do actually appreciate your help."

"I know," Isabelle replies. She reaches out and squeezes his shoulder fondly.

"Have fun tonight," She tells him. "Enjoy yourself. And, you know, try not to let your thoughts take over. Allow yourself to have a good time."

Alec smiles, in his own special way, where the corner of his mouth lifts up and his eyes brighten considerably.

"I'll try."

 

* * *

 

The restaurant isn't ridiculously fancy, which is good news for Alec, as he's never been comfortable in social situations as it is, and the apprehension that comes with it is only amplified if it's in a place he's never been.

Thankfully, he has actually been there before. In fact - and he hopes he doesn't have to mention it to Magnus, fearing both embarrassment and sounding absurdly pretensious - his family is friends with the owners. Not just close friends, but actually, in fact, distant cousins.

Alec arrives first, before Magnus - he's always early, despises being late - and ends up standing in front of the restaurant's entrance, tugging at the sleeves of his leather jacket.

He wonders if he should have brought something, a box of chocolates or, or ... or something. He's been out of the dating game for a while, and he's pretty certain that typically the person who asks the other person out isn't required to bring anything, but he isn't sure if that still applies, and he's also not really sure who in the end actually asked out who.

But he feels a little empty-handed, and at least if he'd brought something it would give him more to fidget with than his own sleeves.

Thankfully, he doesn't have to wait for long - although enough time does pass that he ends up creating another fray in the sleeve of his jacket.

"Alec!"

Alec whirls around at the sound of Magnus' voice, very reminiscent of the day that the idea of a date was brought up.

His breath catches in his throat as he takes in Magnus' outfit - tight, _very tight_ , indigo pants and a silver-threaded royal blue top that shimmers as he walks, and appears to be simply draped over his body like it was made specifically for him. His hair is spiked up in an extremely flattering way, and the makeup lining his eyes causes the peculiar green-gold colour Alec adores, but will not admit to doing so, stand out like a beacon of light in a fog. He can see, as Magnus steps closer, the dusting of silver across his eyelids, the shine of gloss on his lips, all of it coming together to not only make Magnus look absolutely incredible, but to also give Alec the symptoms of cardiac arrest.

Not that he's really complaining.

He's almost startled to see Magnus, unashamedly, trailing his eyes down, and then ever-so-slowly back up - _checking him out_ , as Isabelle would call it, in much the same manner as Alec had, if only a little less subtle about it.

"If I had of known I'd get this as a treat, I wouldn't have invited you out for dinner."

It's cheesy, and lame, and from anyone else Alec would probably groan and then proceed to lament about the standard of the human species and how the hell as evolution lead them to this - but it's _Magnus._ Who is, if his complacent grin is anything to go by, completely aware of the low-quality standard of the pick-up line.

"H-hi." Alec stutters out, a smile playing across his lips.

"Hello, yourself."

Alec wonders how visible his blush actually is under the golden light pouring through the windows of the restaurant.

"Shall we go inside?" Magnus asks, offering his arm. Alec stares at it for split-second before his brain kicks into gear and he understands the gesture.

"Sure."

Alec slides his hand through Magnus' arm, trying not to cling to him too tightly.

"What a gentleman." He mutters, aiming for it to be low enough that only his ears picked up on it. Unfortunately, Magnus seems to have superhuman hearing, or it's just the universe's way of reminding Alec that it hates him, because he catches every word.

'Why thank you, I do aim to please."

Alec laughs, unable to help himself, and a spark of warmth errupts in his chest as Magnus joins in. He's still a little nervous, but he can feel it slowly easing away, can feel the tension and anxiety melting away with each moment that passes. Because things are easy around Magnus, things just flow _so easily_ between them, and whilst it's a little surprising, it's also calming.

Magnus leads them up to the reception desk, chatting fluidly without worrying that Alec isn't saying as much, which Alec really appreciates. It's not that he hates talking, it's just that he prefers to do it with something that's worth saying. Although, he could probably be better at that.

"I just love this restaurant. The food is absolutely incredible, and the decor is gorgeous, oh, some days I just wish I could live here simply for the beautiful surroundings. And the hospitality, I have never been anywhere with such lovely, cheerful people who always have phenomenal manners, without fail."

"How long have you been coming here?" Alec asks, as they step through into the restaurant.

The whole restaurant is swathed in shades of red and gold, vermillion walls with deep gold swirls, burgundy carpet that contrasts with the lighter gold tablecloths. There's a figure of a Chinese dragon against one wall and a shadowhy impression of the Great Wall of China scaling the other. Alec knows the inside of the restaurant as well as he knows his own house, and he can feel the familiarity settling in, easing his nerves even more.

"A few years now. One of my good friends took me here for my birthday and I just fell in love with the place."

Alec grins with secondhand-pride.

"What about you?" Magnus asks, turning to him a few steps from the front desk. "Have you ever been here?"

"Uh," Alec hopes Magnus will take his rising blush as a side-effect of the heated room. "A few times."

He almost groans aloud when he sees who's manning the desk. It's proven now. The universe actually has a personal vendetta against him. There's no hope for him now. He might as well just give up.

"Alec!"

The second time his name is shouted for the night makes Alec want to bang his head against a wall or simply poof out of his existence to take away from the overwhelming embarrassment trying to drag him under.

"Uh, hey - hey Aline."

He doesn't miss Magnus' sneaky glance or the curiousity-bordering-on-suspicion peeking through. Nor does he, unfortunately, miss Aline's eyes narrowing with interest.

"Fancy seeing you here." Aline says, her eyes flicking from Alec, to his hand around Magnus' arm, to Magnus, and then back to Alec again. Her smirk is irritating and he's certain she knows it.

Alec decides that he can't make this situation any worse for himself, and gives in. "Well, it's not like our families can fund this restaurant ourselves, Ali, other people do visit."

Aline's eyebrows raise slightly, almost unnoticeably to anyone who doesn't know her as well as he does.

"Well, it's good to see you. And who, if I might ask, are you?" She asks, turning her attention to Magnus.

He can see the glint of protectiveness in her eyes, similair to the one that always seems to be flashing inside of Isabelle's, and he wonders how much longer he'll have to be subjected to this torture before he can get away and maybe start to enjoy his date, providing Magnus doesn't want to end it after all of this.

"Magnus Bane." Magnus greets, his tone airy and light. He doesn't seem annoyed or upset, but Alec doesn't think he knows Magnus well enough to determine whether what he sees on the surface is the same as what he's actually feeling.

"I am, in fact, the one who made the reservation for tonight." Magnus sneaks a glance at Alec, but it's too quick for Alec to identify anything. "Although, I can't say I was really expecting this."

Aline nods, and smiles understandingly. "Well, it's good to meet you Magnus. I'm Aline. I hope I didn't make things awkward - it's just that, Alec and I are sort-of-cousins, you see, and so I immediately assumed - well, none of that matters right now. If you'll follow me I'll lead you to your table."

"Not a problem at all." Magnus says amicably. He follows Aline, leaving Alec with little choice but to tag along, his hand still wrapped around Magnus' arm.

In fact, it's not until they're at their table, that Magnus makes any move to disentangle them.

Aline leads them through the usual procedure, indicating the menus, asking if they want drinks, etc. Alec answers, of course, but the whole time he does, he can feel the anxiety he thought he'd managed to disperse returning quicker than he can handle.

"A few times," Magnus mutters.

Alec doesn't even attempt to fight the blush racing up his neck. "I'm so sorry, Magnus, I really am - I didn't realise what restaurant you'd mentioned until today and by then I was already nervous about tonight and I didn't think it would be an issue and I know that I should have told you, but I didn't and I'm really sorry-"

"Alexander," Magnus reaches over the table and takes Alec's hand in his carefully. "I'm not upset. Amused, certainly, especially at how alarmed you became when Aline kept glancing between us. But I am, by no means, upset or angry at you."

He laughs softly. "Although, I must admit that I feel a bit like a fool for gushing on about this place so much as though you had never even heard of it."

"I'm still - I'm sorry. I should have said something."

His mind backtracks, over the whole sentence that Magnus had said, and one word sticks out more than the others.

"You - you called me Alexander," He states, quieter than he'd been previously.

Magnus' eyes widen slightly. "I'm sorry, do you not like being called Alexander? I can simply call you Alec if you'd prefer."

"No, it's-" Alec's eyes flicker down to their entertwined hands, and smiles softly. "Usually, I don't." He admits. "In fact, my parents used to be the only ones who called me that and I hated it, so no one kind of calls me that anymore."

His hand tightens around Magnus' for a second, and he can see something dancing in Magnus' eyes.

"When you say it, I - I don't really mind it, that much."

Magnus grins, and like a switch, all of Alec's concerns disappear.

"I guess neither of us can say that the start to this date has been uneventful." Magus jokes, easing the mood, and Alec finds himself laughing along softly.

"No, I - I guess we can't."

Not that he cares, of course. And somehow, he has a feeling that Magnus might not that much either.

 

* * *

 

"I never lie about good television."

"I'm sorry, but - _Real Housewives_? Isabelle forced me to watch that once, and I just - no, I can't."

Alec laughs softly as Magnus' noise of indignation. They've elected to walk instead of trying to hail a cab or bothering with the subway, and their conversation has quickly lead to talk of favourites, and as such, TV shows.

"Which one did she make you watch?" Magnus asks, swinging their joined hands ever-so-slightly.

"Which one?" Alec echoes.

"Yes, which season? Orange County, New Jersey, Beverly Hills..."

"I don't know," Alec answers. "And quite frankly, I don't think I care."

He grins as Magnus looks over in dramaticised shock.

"How can you not care?" Magnus asks. "One is pure original genius, one is shady as hell and the other is utterly fake."

Alec blinks slowly. "I'm sorry, Magnus, but it's just not my thing."

Magnus sighs, throwing up one hand in mock-despair.

"Well," He says. "I guess I'll just have to educate you on the finer arts of television."

Alec ducks his gaze, his eyes catching sight of their hands. The way Magnus had said it ... he knows that he asked Magnus to the wedding, which is creeping up on him faster than he'd like, but it feels different, to have Magnus talking about future plans so casually.

"I'd like that." He mumbles under his breath.

Their steps slow, and as a result, Alec looks up at Magnus. He's gazing at Alec with wonder and amusement, and Alec can't for the life of him fathom why.

"Me too." He whispers, his eyes soft around the edges.

Something in the air shifts, like the world was on a tilted axis and it's just now slotted back into place. Alec's eyes flick down to Magnus' gloss-coated lips, and then back up to his sparkling eyes, and his steps become weak and less sure-footed, slowing until he isn't walking anymore. And to his surprise, Magnus isn't either.

He is, however, looking at Alec with a peculiar shine in his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Alec feels something spark inside of his own chest, something he can't determine, something he isn't sure he needs to.

"What is it?" He asks, as Magnus is still staring, he hasn't broken contact and Alec's curious as to why.

"I just-" Magnus swallows, his eyes flicking down and then back up just as quickly. "I really want to kiss you right now."

Alec's breath hitches as he speaks. "Then why - why don't you?"

Something flashes in Magnus' eyes, and then he's tugging on Alec's hand, onto the side of the footpath where they won't be in anybody else's road, not that there's really many people walking past so late in the evening. They're half-hidden in the shadows cast by the nearest streetlight, creating planes across cheekbones and foreheads, illuminating the brightness of their eyes, like a beacon from a lighthouse.

"Have I ever told you how attractive I think you are?" Magnus whispers, raising his free hand to cup Alec's cheek.

"A few times, I think." Alec replies, just as quietly.

Magnus smiles, his thumb brushing across Alec's cheekbone. The touch sends sparks through Alec's skin, the warmth seeping in.

"Then once more won't hurt. You're beautiful, Alec, absolutely exquisite. These cheekbones, my oh my, they're as sharp as a blade. I'd better be careful or I might cut myself on them."

Alec laughs, he can't help it, and Magnus quickly joins in.

"I know it doesn't sound like it, that was very lame and I apologise, but I do think you're unbelievably handsome." He says.

Alec smiles faintly. "You're not too bad on the eyes yourself."

He'd heard it in a movie, or a show, or something, and he knows it's a weak attempt at flirting, but by the gleam in Magnus' eyes, it doesn't go unappreciated. He inches forward slightly, until there's barely enough room for a hand between them. He can practically feel the fabric of Magnus' shirt against his own, the silver stitching catching the light and twinkling like a dim star.

"And you're just full of surprises." Magnus whispers. He leans closer, brushing his lips softly, slowly, against Alec's, before pulling away again.

Alec's breath shudders, his hand tightening in Magnus'. Magnus chuckles softly, and it's airy and light, sending a spark down Alec's spine. He leans back in, pressing a little harder, a little faster. His hand slides around to cup Alec's neck, his fingers tangling in the ends of his hair at the nape, his mouth firmer against Alec's.

Alec gasps, his free hand scrambling to find something to hold on to, something to ground him. He soon finds purchase on Magnus' upper arm, his hand gripping onto it, scrunching up the silky fabric in his fingers. He presses against Magnus, chasing his mouth despite the lack of space between them, chasing the warmth and the spark. His eyes flutter closed, and he sees something like fireworks behind his eyelids, similair to those buzzing across his skin.

They pull apart, eventually, both with heaving chests and lungs gasping for air, and stupidly delighted smiles.

"Is it pretentious of me to be glad that we didn't wait until the wedding to have our first date?" Magnus asks, his fingers brushing across the nape of Alec's neck. "That was one hell of a kiss."

"I don't think it's pretentious," Alec admits quietly. "I'm - I'm glad too."

"Well," Magnus says, almost conversationally. "Then I guess it would be rather, counter-productive, to just wait until our next date to kiss again."

"Hm," Alec hums, anticipation scratching at his skin. "You're probably right."

He's the one to initiate it this time, leaning in to press his mouth firmly against Magnus'. Their lips part easily, breath mixing between them, as they press impossibly close. Alec's hand tightens on Magnus' arm, and he can't hold back his gasp as Magnus' nails scrape lightly across his scalp.

 _This,_ he thinks, as he melts into Magnus' touch. _This is the prize for overcoming my fear, this is why Iz and Clary pushed me to ask him out. This is what makes all the nerves and anxiety worth it._

_This is what it's all about._

**Author's Note:**

> tbh don't be surprised if alec's titles become fic titles. i'm not sure about how i feel about the amount of dialogue. The amount of time it took for me to come up with titles for Alec's novels is almost shameful. 
> 
> [Hit Me Up](http://killjoyrow.tumblr.com/)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Rarer Metal](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12138480) by [sherlocks_skeletal_warlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlocks_skeletal_warlock/pseuds/sherlocks_skeletal_warlock)




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